


Ficlet Collection

by outranks



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, Polyamory, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-11 02:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17438501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outranks/pseuds/outranks
Summary: Collection of (mostly) unrelated short fics written for various FC5 requests





	1. Rook/Jacob "hold my hand"

**Author's Note:**

> all of these were originally posted on my [tumblr](https://outranks.tumblr.com/)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: “Hold my hand so he gets jealous.” Jacob/F!dep

Jacob has been unusually busy lately, which is fine. It’s fine. Rook is fine with it. There are dozens, maybe even _tens_ of dozens, of things for her to focus on that don’t involve Jacob Seed or their strangely affectionate relationship where sex has taken a backseat to genuine intimacy. Almost like normal human dating that doesn’t involve cults or an uncomfortable amount of mutant wolves.

But Jacob has been _too busy_ for her this last week. 

Not the normal kind of busy either, the kind that Rook associates with whatever Jacob’s job actually is, but where she’s pretty sure he’s avoiding her. Rook calls and Jacob only has time for a quick _hello, can’t talk, bye._ She destroys a supply truck and frees some hostages, and all he says is _don’t_. Like she’ll actually listen to an order that doesn’t come with a _please_ and a _thank you,_ Rook, and maybe a full day in bed. Especially after a week with no contact where she’s starting to want some reassurance that what they have is still good and real.

So Rook decides that if she wants answers she’ll just have to go and get them. She’ll confront Jacob in his lair in the mountains and not let him leave until he talks. Maybe interrogation isn’t her strong suit, but she’s a quick learner and even better at making things up on the spot. 

Of course nothing ever goes to plan.

St. Francis is swarming with Peggies who have no idea how to react to her. Several of them draw their weapons only to stand there in confusion while she stomps up to the front doors, and a few of them pretend not to notice her at all. Personally, she thinks those Peggies are the smart ones. 

“You,” she says, turning to a nearby guard who looks halfway to jumping out of his own skin, “where’s Jacob?”

The Peggie raises a shaking hand to point back down the same road she just came from.

“What?”

“He’s um, he’s—” the Peggie swallows hard— “he’s at the bunker, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me _ma’am._ ” Rook is horrified by the sound of it. _Ma’am._ Like she has any sort of authority or a single clue about anything she’s doing these days. 

“Deputy Harald.”

Well that is several times worse. “Just— just call me Rook.” If this is a new thing the Peggies are going to do, there’s no way she’ll be able to explain it to anyone in the Resistance. 

“Yes, Harald Rook.”

“Oh for—” she takes a very deep breath, closing her eyes as she counts to ten on the exhale. “How long until Jacob gets back?”

The Peggie’s eyes dart from her to the road, and then back to her. “Any minute now, I think,” he says. “Um, we’re not supposed to go into his room when he’s not here and I— I don’t know if that means you, Harald Rook, but please stay out here? Please?” He looks like he’ll collapse into a dead faint if she says _no,_ so Rook just nods her head slowly. The last things she wants is to deal with whatever this guy has going on. 

“Fine, but if he’s not back in five minutes—”

“Oh, look, _look,_ ” the Peggies says, bouncing on his toes and staring excitedly at the road. “That’s his truck, he’s back, no need to— to do anything!” 

Rook is getting whiplash from this guy who she really thinks might need a nap after this. 

She watches Jacob’s truck pull up to the center and idle for a moment with Jacob inside, just looking at her. The angle of the sun and the tint if the windows makes it difficult to read his expression, but she thinks she can almost spot a _smile._ But when he gets out he’s as unreadable as he always tries to be, and she hasn’t learned all of his tells yet to know for sure if he’s happy that she’s there or not. If he is, then they’re going to have a long talk about _communication_ going forward.

And if he’s not… 

Rook tries to ignore the ache in her heart at the possibility that she won’t have Jacob any more.

Jacob glances at her, but stops to talk to some of his people which isn’t unusual except for how on edge Rook already feels. “Hey, hold my hand so he gets jealous,” she says to her new Peggie friend who suddenly looks like he might actually die as she grabs for his hand.

“ _What?_ ” he asks, though it comes out more like a sad rasp if a dying man.

This was definitely a better idea in her head than in practice, and the Peggie’s hand is clammy and his face has drained of all his blood. “Just… go along with it, okay?”

“Rook,” Jacob starts, finally walking over to her, “what are you doing?”

Rook opens her mouth to say something clever and then closes it when she can’t think of anything. “I don’t know.”

Jacob sighs and starts to head inside, only getting a few feet before he must notice she’s not following. “Come on, we should talk,” he says casual as anything, like that isn’t the worst sentence she’s ever heard.

“Fuck,” she whispers, letting go of the Peggie’s hand. “Good luck with uh, whatever you’re doing.” She pats him on the shoulder and gives him a thumbs up in case that helps any, then she jogs to catch up with Jacob. 

They get almost all the way upstairs and to his office-turned-bedroom, when she can’t keep her thoughts to herself any more. “So what do you want to talk about?” she asks, ignoring the Peggies awkwardly scurrying out of the way and pretending not to hear anything she says. “If you want to end things—” just the thought of that _hurts_ as much as it’s starting to make her angry— “I won’t let you.” She won’t. Not after what she’s willing to give up and not after what she’s _already_ given up just to be with him so far.

“ _Rook,_ ” Jacob says, pulling her into the room and carefully shutting the door.

“No, _no,_ you’re lucky to have me, Jacob. I’m the strongest person you know, I think your jokes are funny— your brothers don’t even think that, I can tell— and I don’t care that you spend way too much time around wolves and sometimes smell like wet dog, because I love you anyway. You should be grateful.”

“I am.”

“Well…” Rook folds her arms over her chest, not quite sure where to go from there. “Good.”

“You love me?”

“I said it, didn’t I?” 

Jacob looks excessively pleased, like she’s done something he finds _charming._ “You did,” he says, putting one hand on her hip to draw her closer and the other on her jaw to gently tip her head back. “I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I—” Jacob kisses her, just a soft press of lips that feels a lot like coming home. “I wanted to tell Joseph about us and I thought if I fixed your messes first, showed him that you wouldn’t be a liability…” Jacob huffs fond laughter, the softest smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Of course he already knew.”

“Is that— what did you say?”

“He’d like it if you stopped setting things on fire,” Jacob says. “ _I_ would like it if you stop setting things on fire, but he said he wants me to be happy. You make me happy.”

Rook’s heart feels light and full and she’s so in love with this man she could ride around the county yelling it through a megaphone. “You make me happy, too.” More than happy, but she doesn’t have the words for it yet. Maybe she’s made some mistakes in her life, taken some wrong turns, but everything has lead her _here._ To Jacob. Who she wants to spend the rest of her life with.

Jacob kisses her again, deeper this time, and she meets him with all of her heart.


	2. Rook/John, kid!fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why did we have to have kids?” f!dep/John

There are a lot of things Rook loves about being a mother, like her son and his tiny little hands and feet and his blue eyes just like his father, but there are some things she could stand to live without. Such as when she’s _tired_ and he won’t go down for his nap. She has the set of rooms all to herself and a big bed just waiting for her to fall into, if only her baby will stop crying and go to sleep.

“What’s wrong, huh?” she asks softly. “I know you’re not still hungry, I know you don’t need your diaper changed, so what is it?”

Her son makes a sad gurgling noise and continues to cry.

“Okay, okay, you want your little wolf?” Rook reaches into the crib and picks up the small stuffed wolf, dyed to look like a baby judge. “You want this?” She holds it up, gently shaking the toy in front his face. “Look, it’s little wolfie.”

Her son only cries harder.

“Rook?” John asks, stepping into the room. “Are you alright?”

“Why did we have to have kids?” she groans, handing over her baby to his father and setting the stuffed wolf back into the crib. “Are we sure this was a good idea? Maybe we should have just listened to Sharky and got a cool dog instead of trying to be parents.”

“You don’t like dogs.”

“I like _some_ dogs,” Rook says. “ _You_ don’t like dogs.”

“I don’t.” John gently rocks their son in his arms, staring down at his face with a look of absolute wonder. “He’s so small,” he says, pressing a kiss to his head. “What’s wrong, little guy? You’re dad’s here, it’s okay.” Whatever magic baby-calming powers, John seems to have naturally. Not that he ever seems to notice. “There you go, stop crying so your mom can get some rest, and you can too.”

There’s really nothing like watching John with their son. He’d been terrified when he found out she was pregnant, nearly catatonic for a few days, and then little more than a tangle of nerves until almost a month _after_ their son was born. Like he could never quite accept that he was going to be a father and that he might actually be good at it. He’s _still_ learning that last part and maybe one day he’ll actually believe it.

“I thought you were supposed to be doing inventory with the Chosen,” Rook whispers when the crying finally starts to die down. 

John nods and smiles, not taking his eyes away from the baby. “What?” he asks, glancing up at her for just a brief moment. “Oh, Jacob took over, thought he could do the job _better._ ”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

“I considered opening the bunker doors and pushing him out into the radioactive wasteland, but then I came in here and saw this little guy.”

“I see.” Rook wonders how many problems could have been solved in the early days if she’s just shoved a baby at the Seeds instead of trying to fight them. Which is, in some ways, exactly what she did end up doing. Just in a backward, convoluted sort of way that _did_ involve the world ending. So maybe her methods were right all along, somehow. “Well I’m glad you didn’t try to fight Jacob,” she says, if only because that would have gotten Joseph involved and she would have inevitably been pulled into it too.

John hums, pressing another kiss to their son’s head, and carefully placing him back in his crib. “We _made that,_ ” he says, grabbing for her hand and pulling her closer. “We made something _good._ ”

Rook lets herself be wrapped up in John’s arms, even though she still wants to crawl back into bed. “Yeah we did.”

“I want to make another one so he’s not alone,” John says. “He needs siblings.”

“You can make as many as you like.” Rook pats the back of John’s hand. “It’ll be a medical miracle.”

“You know what I mean.”

The truth is Rook has been thinking about it since before even their son was born. She didn’t really have siblings growing up, and she knows how much the Seeds mean to each other, so of course the idea has some appeal. Plus, she really does love knowing she did at least one thing right in her life. “I’ll consider it.”

John tucks his face against her neck and Rook can feel his soft, pleased smile against her skin.


	3. Rook/Jacob, pregnancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why did we have to have kids?” Rook/Jacob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technically in the same universe as the previous chapter

Two years into life in the bunker and nearly three months into her second pregnancy and Rook is more than ready to start climbing the damn walls. If having her first kid was a breeze, then the second one should, in theory, be even easier. Yet of course it’s not because nothing in her life can just be _normal_. Not spending the better part of a decade in a bunker with a cult she still technically has not joined, not the fact that her son is currently being babysat by his aunt Faith and godfather _Sharky,_ and certainly not _Jacob Seed_. Who has gotten it into his head that he needs to re-babyproof their entire set of rooms for the fifth time that week. 

As if everything hasn’t already been made so safe that she could swan dive off a cabinet and have a better than average chance of landing in some _pillows._

“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” Rook asks from her sprawl on the very nice, very large bed. She originally had plans to go see whatever the Peggies were up to, but she’d gotten as far as _underwear_ before giving up because Jacob was far more interesting. 

“I don’t want my kid to get hurt,” Jacob says, rechecking the bumper guard around the edge of the table for the fifth time in an hour. 

Rook hums and grabs for another pillow. If she’s going to watch the man she loves lose his damn mind, then she may as well be comfortable. “Do you mean the one we’ve left with Sharky, or the one who won’t be here for _a while?_ ” Because either way, they are the two most protected children in the whole bunker. 

Jacob makes a soft frustrated noise and scrubs his hands over his face. “Why did we have to have kids?”

“You were there,” Rook says, “I’d think you’d have some idea about how it all works.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah,” Rook sighs, “I know.” It doesn’t matter how much time goes by, or how happy and healthy and _alive_ their son is, Jacob is afraid he’s going to fail their kid the same way he thinks he failed his brothers. “You’re a great father, Jacob, and you’re gonna be a great father to this one too.” She puts her hand to her belly, spreading her fingers wide. There’s not much to show yet, but she’s still amazed every time she thinks about it. 

This one better have her eyes, though. The baby blues of the Seeds’ was too damn powerful.

“You don’t know—”

“ _Jacob._ ” If Rook has to spend every day reminding Jacob that he’s a good father, brother, partner then she fucking will until he finally gets it. “I _know._ ” She’s watched him panic over her first pregnancy, over the birth of their son, and every day since. The same way she’s watched him take every step to being the best father their children could ask for. “Come here,” she says, reaching out for him. “I’m lonely and I need you.” And the bunker is always a degree or two colder than she’d like and Jacob feels like a damn furnace. 

Jacob gives her a look like he knows exactly what she’s thinking, but he doesn’t argue. “Lonely, huh?” he says, voice a rough grate of amusement as he climbs onto the bed and settles in beside her.

“Yep.” Rook maneuvers them both until they’re a comfortable tangle of limbs and she has Jacob’s hand pressed to her belly. “So what is it gonna take for you to believe that our kids are lucky to have you as a dad? I think I saw a projector in a storage closet, I could make a slideshow? With wolves?”

“You’re funny,” Jacob says, voice utterly dry.

“I know.” She shifts a little to tuck herself closer into the curve of his body. “Now tell me, what’ll it take?”

Jacob sighs. “I don’t know,” he says, which is fair enough. 

“I guess I’ll have to make that slideshow.”

“I guess you will.”

If he thinks she’s joking, then Rook is absolutely going to prove him wrong. Then she’ll prove to him that he’s a great father to their son not matter how difficult it is to get that information through his thick, stubborn skull. And no matter how long it takes. Their family is unconventional, and a little weird, but she’s happier than she’s ever been in her life and she wants the people she loves to feel that too.


	4. Rook/Joseph, pranks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt: "Hello there could I please give you a prompt for one of your deps messing with Joe in some way?? Maybe trying to prank him somehow??? 😂"

Rook first gets the idea in a small, ransacked shop somewhere in the Henbane. And maybe it’s the Bliss that makes it seem like something she should do, but she picks up the small yellow frames and carefully tucks them into her bag. 

For later. 

When it’s the right time.

*

As strange, confusing, and unsettling as Joseph’s compound is, his personal quarters are not only comfortable, but almost feel like an actual home. Rook could get used to the big bed with all of its plush pillows and the working shower that always runs hot enough to turn her skin pink. It’s possibly she’s just been without any amount of luxury for so long that anything better than a sleeping bag on the ground seems _nice_ , but she suspects the Peggies put in the time and effort to give the Father a space that feels like a home away from home. A place where he can relax when he’s not preaching to the faithful.

And more importantly, a place where Rook can meet him without being seen.

“I think Jacob knows about us,” she says, stretching out on her stomach and running her fingers up Joseph’s chest to lay her palm flat over his heart. “He had this weird speech he tried to give me over the radio. It was all about loyalty and commitment… you don’t think _he_ was trying to propose, do you?”

Joseph pulls a face of confusion, mouth opening on a half-formed word before he seems to gather his thoughts. “Why would my brother propose to you.”

“It’s either _that_ or he knows that we’re—” she waves her arm around, gesturing to the messy sheets, their naked bodies, and the fingerprint bruises on her hips— “whatever we are.” Rook thinks it’s probably a deeply committed relationship, considering how intense Joseph can get, but they haven't talked about it. Not really. Not beyond the somewhat possessive moments they’ve both had, and Rook’s _mild_ threats that he better not be with anyone else.

If she’s going to be sneaking around with _Joseph Seed_ then it sure as hell isn’t going to be _casually_.

“Whatever we are,” Joseph repeats with a soft huff, leaning down to kiss her bare shoulder. 

“Dating, maybe.”

Joseph moves away, quietly pleased and absolutely amused, and she hates how much he understands her. “Perhaps that’s what my brother meant about _commitment_. If he does know… would you like to talk about it? About _us?_ ”

Rook groans, burying her face in the pillows to hide the heat spreading to her cheeks. Feelings are a lot easier for her to _have_ than to express. “No,” she groans, wishing she were better with words. Then they might be past this sneaking around part of their relationship and on to the part where she probably joins the cult and gets cult-married. Or whatever equivalent Eden’s Gate has. 

The bed dips beside her as Joseph gets up, tracing his fingers down her spine and making her shiver. “I’m meeting my siblings for dinner, I’ll talk to Jacob when I see him,” he says. “I don’t suppose you’ll join me?”

Rook waves him off with a sigh; she’s definitely not ready for that confrontation. “Go, enjoy your family dinner, I have to meet some people at Fall’s End and if I’m late again they’ll get suspicious.” Plus she’s starting to run out of clever excuses and soon she’ll have to start using the less believable ones. Like alien abduction, or regular kidnapping.

She waits until she hears the shower start before she slips out of bed and grabs the lovely, heart-shaped, yellow sunglasses she found and carefully swaps them out with Joseph’s regular pair. If he doesn’t like it, she knows he has several backup pairs scattered around the compound. Not to mention the one’s at John’s house. So Rook isn’t too worried about it, plus she gets a nice new pair of glasses for herself. That’s a win for everyone, as far as she’s concerned.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she calls, trying to find all of her clothes so she can get dressed. “Or tonight? I might come back here to sleep, if that’s okay?”

Joseph pulls the shower curtain back as Rook peeks through the open door. “I’ll probably stay at the house, but you’re always welcome here,” he says, then starts to close the curtain before adding, “ _try_ not to kill any of my guards this time.”

Rook shrugs. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says, slipping on her shoes and heading for the door, “but no promises!” Once she’s outside she walks roughly as far as the treeline, hiding in wait to see Joseph wearing his brand new glasses.

It doesn’t take long, maybe ten minutes, before a Peggie drives up to the house ready to take the Father to the ranch. When the door opens Joseph steps out, casual as he always is. There’s a small smile on his lips like he _knows_ that she’s watching as he talks to the poor Peggie who looks shaken to his very core at the sight of the Father, the leader of the cult, wearing heart-shaped yellow glasses. But Joseph just continues into the car, business as usual, leaving the Peggie to have his personal crisis in his own time.

Rook wishes she had a camera to capture the moment. 

No one will believe her otherwise.

*

After that, Rook makes it a point to search out glasses when she’s in abandoned homes or deserted shops so she can swap out Joseph’s whenever he least expects it. Her favorites are the bright yellow stars.


	5. Rook/Jacob, problem solving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A little gasoline, a little blowtorch…problem solved”

Rook’s plans always seem like such a good idea at the start.

“Okay, okay,” she says. “Okay, this is fine.” 

At the bottom of the hill, spread out over a long stretch of road, is a level of destruction Rook really wasn’t prepared to be responsible for. There’s a mess of crashed trucks, a downed helicopter, broken pieces of a small building, and roughly two dozen Peggies and Resistance all fighting over who, exactly, is to blame. She can hear the escalation of angry shouting, even from her relatively safe distance. 

“It’s fine,” she repeats, like if she says it enough it will suddenly become true.

“You want to explain to me how any of that is _fine?_ ” Grace asks, coming to stand beside her on the hill. 

“It could be worse.”

“Yeah,” Sharky says, “it could be on fire.” He takes a seat on the ground to watch as a Peggie punches one of the Resistance in the face, setting off a chain reaction that results in a fist fight that Rook is going to consider a win as long as no one starts shooting at each other.

One of the helicopters makes a loud screeching sound, partially stopping the fight, before it bursts into flames, sending everyone around it scrambling to get away. 

Grace glances down at Sharky. “You were saying?”

“Dep fucked up,” Sharky says.

“No.” Rook bounces on her toes, fighting her sudden flight response. “No, I think— yeah, no one is going to know we did this.” 

_Probably._

She has only a vague idea of where all of Eli’s cameras are and Jacob has a concerning knack for always knowing where she is. It’s impossible for her to hide in the mountains, which isn’t so bad usually. But sometimes… sometimes she just wants to get away. Go somewhere that no one can find her and nothing she does is being watched and recorded. Where no one expects more from her than she can give.

Where the burden of _Hope_ doesn’t lead her into ideas she can’t take back.

“It’s good to stay optimistic,” Grace says.

Rook scrubs her hands over her face, hiding from the mess of broken machinery and fire. “It was an accident.” The rocket launcher had belonged to a Peggie once, and when she’d seen the helicopter in the distance she’d thought _this will be easy._ There was no way to know that when the helicopter fell it would hit the side of an abandoned shop and crash into a convoy of unmarked Resistance supply trucks that would take out a Peggie prison van and a roadblock. Usually things just crash in the woods and no one but the pilot gets hurt. 

This was never supposed to happen. 

“I gotta say, this was a one in a million chance,” Sharky says. “There’s no way to predict that kind of disaster.”

Grace opens her mouth, then closes it with a click of her teeth. “He’s right,” she says. “Sometimes things don’t go the way we want them to.”

“Yeah, I—” Before Rook can finish, her radio crackles to life with the sound of Jacob Seed’s voice.

“Sweetheart, tell me you’re not part of that crash I’m hearing about.”

Room startles, grabbing at the radio, nearly dropping it, then flinging the damn thing down the hill where it shatters into pieces on the road. Like that won’t make things worse when she doesn’t answer and Jacob will just send someone to find out in person. They have a somewhat ill-conceived truce that often feels a lot more like _dating,_ which isn’t really something she wants to advertise or share with anyone. At least not yet. Not until she has things more figured out. Like what Jacob wants from her or what she wants from him.

But Jacob can’t keep his damn mouth shut and now Sharky and Grace are looking at her like she’s someone _new._

“Sweetheart?” Sharky asks in the most suspicious tone Rook has ever heard from him.

Grace folds her arms over her chest, looking _disappointed._ “Of all the people in this county, you’re getting tangled up with Jacob Seed?”

“He’s not that bad,” Rook says in an attempt to defend herself that misses the mark almost immediately after leaving her mouth. “Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. He’s not— we’re not— it’s not like that.”

“Look, I’m not gonna judge you for who you choose to get your rocks off with,” Sharky says. “Your lady rocks, excuse me.”

“Sharky, that’s not…” Grace trails off with a sigh. “Yeah, he has a point, I think. It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but you do know how this has to end.”

“It’s really not like that.”

It really is. But Rook wants to keep this one nice thing to herself for a while. Before it inevitably has to end. Jacob might not be a good man, not at all, but she likes when he’s around. He’s always so gentle with her, like he hasn’t yet learned that she won’t break, and he loves his family more than Rook can remember having ever loved anything in her life. 

Sharky stands up, brushing the dirt off of his jeans. “If you say so.”

Grace looks unconvinced, but she nods anyway and slings her rifle over her shoulder. “Well, there’s not much we can do here,” she says. “If we leave now we can make it back to Fall’s End before dark.”

“You guys go,” Rook says. “I’ll see if there’s anything that can be salvaged and, I don’t know, maybe see if there’s a way to fix any of this.”

Sharky’s entire face pinches in a frown. “ _How?_ ”

“A little gasoline, a little blowtorch…” Rook shrugs, trying and failing to formulate any kind of plan. “Problem solved?”

“No,” Grace says, which is absolutely fair.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

*

Rook doesn’t know what she’s doing at all, and when she gets closer to the flames, she realises there really isn’t much she can do. Once the fire burns out, some of the supplies may be saved for the Resistance, but there’s no way to know until later. She can see bodies between broken and twisted metal, and there’s the smell of something _sweet_ being carried in the smoke that makes her back away. 

She keeps her distance after that; going back up the hill to wait, sitting in the grass with her arms hugging her knees to her chest. At least no one else is around. Like both sides have decided this isn’t where they want to be at the moment. 

“You know there are better way to get my attention,” Jacob says, joining her on the ground.

Rook hadn’t even heard him approaching. 

So much for her self-preservation instincts.

“I don’t want your attention.”

“Well, you have it.”

Rook makes a sound of frustration, shoulders slumping, and she tilts herself against Jacob’s side. He’s all hard muscle and heat and an inexplicably comforting presence that she doesn’t know what to do with. But he’s _there_ and maybe it’s an act, some part of a longer game for her trust, but it feels a lot like he really cares. Like he wants to be _something_ to her and they just haven’t figured out what that is yet. 

“I fucked up,” she murmurs, hating to admit to her failures when she can't afford to have any.

Jacob shifts, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her in closer. “Yeah, you did.”

“I just—” Rook sighs, trying to find the words to explain the mess her life has become. “I just wanted things to be easier for a while. Just a few minutes where the fighting stops and I don’t have to worry about getting killed. Everything is death and destruction and demands of my time and my energy and— I understand it, I do, but every day is _harder._ I can see it on the faces of my friends, too. We’ve all been fighting non stop and I wanted— I _want_ a reprieve.”

Jacob takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together in a way that’s sweet and soft and does something funny to her stomach. “Did you get one?” he asks.

“One what?”

“A reprieve,” Jacob says.

“No,” Rook says, looking around at the mountains that are, for the first time since she got there, _quiet._ “Maybe. I don’t know. If I did it’s gonna cost me more than it was worth.”

“That’s how it usually goes.”

“How do you— how do you do it?”

“I have my family,” Jacob says.

Which Rook should have expected. She knows Jacob well enough by now to know that his brothers are the majority of his motivation for everything that he does. “Oh,” she says, because that's not something that she has. 

“There’s a place for you at St. Francis, if you want.”

Rook frowns, glancing up at Jacob who meets her eyes with a steady gaze and a look that she can’t quite read. “With you?” This feels big, important, and possibly more than she’s ready for. 

Jacob nods slowly. “Only if that's what you want.”

“Are you— do you—” Her mind scrambles to find traps and exits and instead all she finds is _Jacob_ offering her a different kind of tomorrow. Maybe a different kind of family. “I can’t join the cult.”

“I won’t make you.”

“Can I think about it?”

Jacob releases her hand and tips her chin up for a kiss that’s only a brush of their lips. “Take your time.”

“Thank you,” Rook says and thinks that she might already have her answer.


	6. Rook/Jacob, omegaverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” and “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.” with alpha f!Dep and omega Jacob

The first time it rains in weeks and it pours. The wind has brought several trees down onto the road and Rook is pretty sure some areas have already flooded. Which isn’t great since she’s stuck inside the damn hotel in the mountains.

So far the Peggies haven’t noticed her, but the longer she stays the more likely that is to change. It’s not a _big_ problem, not really, at least not much of one since she was there to see Jacob in the first place, but she’s not ready to say goodbye to the Resistance yet. There are too many loose ends she still needs to tie up before Jacob’s heat hits in a few weeks and he’s _officially_ her mate. Her omega.

Just, _hers._

“Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while,” she says, reaching her hand out the open window to catch water on her skin. There’s something about a storm and the smell of rain that reminds her of home and safety, even when everything else tells her it’s dangerous. 

“You have somewhere else you'd rather be?” Jacob asks, though Rook can just as easily hear what he _isn’t_ saying. For all that Jacob is strong and clever, he doesn’t see himself desirable omega. So far she hasn’t been able to get it through his head that he’s her perfect match, but she’ll keep telling him even long after they’re mated.

Rook turns away from the window, leaving them open in spite of the rain coming through. “If I could drag you into bed and never let you leave, I think I would,” she says, and ideas start running through her head about exactly how she could accomplish that. The lights flicker and dim as the power fails and for a moment Rook can’t see anything before her eyes adjust to the dark. “You know, maybe this will be fun.”

“Fun?” Jacob is briefly illuminated by a crack of lightning. 

There’s not a lot of light to navigate by, but Rook gets herself pressed to Jacob’s chest, wrapped in his arms, and breathing in the scent of her _mate_. “Yeah, Jacob, _fun._ ” Being unable to leave has eased some of the tension she felt over the fact that she _should._ All she wants is him, her mate, but she still has responsibilities and demands for her time that won’t let her fully relax until Jacob’s heat finally comes. 

She pushes her hands up under the back of his shirt to press her cold fingers to his spine. “I’m thinking we start with a nap.” And then later she’ll get him on his back so they can ride out the storm. 

But she really wants that nap first. 

Jacob huffs a soft laugh and pulls away. “You always want to sleep,” he says, “and I still have work to do.”

Rook isn’t entirely sure what Jacob does when she’s not around, besides giving speeches and things related to wolves, but she does know one thing, “my idea is better.”

“My hunters—”

“Will be fine without you for an hour.” _Maybe_. The power is still out and she knows for a fact the hotel has backup generators which none of the Peggies have started yet. It’s not a great sign for their competency without Jacob to tell them what to do. “Come on, omega,” she says, giving him a gentle shove but keeping any hint of _alpha_ out of her voice. Rook _will not_ order her mate to do something he doesn’t want to. 

More than anything she wants Jacob to feel safe with her.

“One hour,” Jacob sighs, moving to the bed, almost like he doesn’t like the idea as much as she does.

“And take your shit off?”

Jacob pauses, then shrugs, and does as she asks. 

It’s too dark to see every scar and mark on his skin, but Rook knows them by heart anyway. “You are beautiful, you know that?” In her entire life she never thought she’d find an omega like Jacob who would want _her_ as an alpha. 

“You should get your eyes checked, Rook.”

“Don’t talk that way about my mate,” she says, dropping onto the small bed and dragging Jacob against her until they’re comfortably tangled up together. She runs her fingers up and down his back and breathes deep to fill her lungs with his sent. “Everyone keeps tell me you’re a bad guy, but I want you to know that you’re _mine_. I chose you and you chose me, and I love who you are.”

Jacob hums and tucks his face to her neck. “And if they’re right? What if I am a bad guy?”

“Well—” Rook doesn’t care, she’s never cared, but— “no one’s perfect.” She’s already found her mate and made her choice and _no one_ is going to change her mind.


	7. Rook/John, proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, did I scare you, big boy?”

Rook sneaks off to Seed ranch enough that she knows the fastest way into the house without getting spotted by any of John’s guards. Not that she’s afraid of them, or believes they haven’t been ordered to let her pass, but she’d also rather not advertise where she spends most of her free time. She’s not an unknown entity in the valley, or Hope County in general, and she doesn’t trust the idea that gossip won’t spread. 

Even across the Peggies and into the Resistance. 

John might be _her guy_ , her perfect someone, but he’s still one of the leaders of a cult, and she’s still technically a deputy who’s supposed to arrest his brother. Which at this point, Rook doesn’t think she could do it if she wanted to. At least partially because she’s aware of John’s many crimes and would be obligated to arrest him too.

It occurs to her, not for the first time, that she is very bad at her job.

Rook stops in the kitchen first, grabbing a muffin that is so ridiculously good that eating it has to be at least two different sins. It’s not fair that the best bakers in the county apparently all work for the Seeds. She sighs and shoves another one in her mouth, hoping that she’ll remember to grab the rest before she leaves, and chases it with a glass of _fresh-squeezed_ orange juice that annoys her just by existing. How do any of the Peggies have time to squeeze some oranges into a pitcher when all of them are too busy being crazy and unwashed?

It’s baffling, is what it is.

“John?” she calls softly, not wanting to alert anyone outside just in case they didn’t get the memo not to shoot her on sight.

The house is big, with far too many rooms, and no matter how often Rook is there she still doesn’t fully grasp the layout. But there’s a soft sound of someone speaking further down one of the hallways that she decides to follow, remaining quiet and cautious. 

She ends up at John’s office, probably her favorite place in the house, after the bedroom and the kitchen. It’s lined with bookshelves, each piled with a collection of different books in every genre. Like John’s own private library. And what wallspace isn’t covered with a bookshelf is plastered with photos of the Seeds. Pictures of John and his brothers looking _happy._

“And that’s why I think— we— you would be—” John groans, running his fingers through his hair. “It would be an _honour_ —” his back is to her, and from where Rook is standing she thinks that she can see a small camera recording John as he speaks. “You are—”

“Talking to yourself, John?”

John visibly startles, spinning on his heal and pressing a hand to his chest. “ _Rook._ ”

“Did I scare you, big boy?” Rook asks, stepping into the room. 

“ _Yes,_ ” John says. 

“So, what are you doing?”

John hits a button on the camera to stop the recording, cheeks going lightly pink. “I was practicing— it’s nothing— it’s— it’s not important right now,” he says, but his hair is a mess from combing his fingers through it more times than Rook could have seen, and he’s carefully trying to hide a folded piece of paper in his back pocket.

Considering the nature of their first meeting, and the secrecy of their relationship, they don’t really keep things from each other. Rook isn’t exactly suspicious, but she is edging toward _worried_. “That’s a lot of set up for nothing,” she says.

“I like to record myself so I know where I need to improve.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t mean it like—”

“Hey, it’s fine, everyone has—”

“ _Rook._ ”

Rook grins and steps closer to John, reaching up to cup his jaw. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If there’s something wrong or— or you need to talk, I’ll listen,” she says. “You can trust me with anything.”

John sighs, eyes closing for a moment before he looks at her again. “I do trust you.”

“I trust you, too.” Rook slips her hands down to his waist and tucks herself against John’s chest, breathing in the scent of his expensive body wash and imported colognes. Sometimes their differences make her wonder how they ever got this far, but she can’t imagine being anywhere else. Or _with_ anyone else. Not now that she knows this side of John. There’s the version of himself that he shows to the world, and a version he shows only to his family. To _her_. And for whatever reason, Rook loves them both. “Talk to me when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

“You make me happy,” she murmurs. “If the world doesn’t end, we’ll escape to Canada and live as outlaws.”

“What?”

“I’m just planning for the future.”

John makes a sound that she can’t quite interpret; something between a laugh and a groan of frustration. “You make everything seem _easy,_ ” he says, gently moving her back until they’re face to face. 

“Escaping to Canada?”

“ _Everything._ ”

“That’s because I don’t know what I’m doing.” Rook shrugs, not entirely sure if she should explain that she’s just been making things up the entire time she’s been in Hope County. Or that she’s gotten good at pretending all results were as expected, no matter what happens. 

“You don’t—” John frowns and huffs a soft laugh. “I wanted to do this right,” he says, circling the desk to pull something out if a drawer. “I wrote a speech, I _practiced_ it— I thought I could make this _perfect._ ”

Rook is so utterly lost she’s going to need a map to find her way out. “I’m sure it’s a good speech,” she offers, hoping that’s where this is going.

“It’s not about the speech.”

“Then what—”

“I want you to _marry me._ ”

All of the air leaves Rook’s lungs and she feels like she just jumped off the statue of Joseph again. “You want…” she looks from John’s face, to the ring he’s holding, and back up to John. “You—” Of all the things she was expecting, this one wasn’t even on the list. “Marry you?”

“Rook,” John starts, taking her hand, “will you marry me?”

Rook’s heart is hammering in her chest, and she’s doing her best to pretend she isn’t going to cry. “Yes,” she whispers, letting John slide the ring onto her finger. It sparkles in the light, each stone turning to glitter as her vision becomes blurred with tears. “John I-- you thought you needed a speech? I _love you._ ”

“I thought I could make it perfect.”

“ _This_ is perfect.” It really is. Rook drags John into a kiss, determined to show him exactly how happy he makes her.


	8. Polyseed, "please don't leave me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Please don't leave me" f!dep/polyseed

For weeks Rook has been having nightmares. Not every night, but too often and always memorable. She sees John die, she sees Jacob die, she sees Joseph alive and looking at her through fire and _hatred._ She sees it all again and again and she wakes paralysed with fear that it’s all going to be real and when she opens her eyes they’ll be gone. 

So she sleeps less.

Rook curls herself around Joseph, feeling John at her back, and reaches out to touch Jacob. They’re her anchor points reminding her that this is real and they're alive. She listens to their breathing as she drifts in sleep that feels no longer than _minutes,_ but she can’t see them die again. She can’t have Joseph look at her with contempt and anger. The Seeds mean the world to her and the thought of losing them crushes something in her heart and turns her blood ice cold. 

The morning can’t come soon enough, bringing golden light through the windows and warmth to a bedroom that was beginning to feel cold. Rook can tell when Jacob wakes, though he doesn’t move to get out of bed. She taps her fingers against his skin, letting him know she’s awake too, and after a moment he places his hand over hers. It settles the anxious feeling in her stomach. She can’t keep going as she has, keeping everything inside. There might be no stop to the nightmares, but if she tells them… at least they won’t let her suffer alone. Restless sleep is not uncommon in their home.

“Close the curtains,” John mumbles against her neck, trying to hide his face from the sunlight. 

“Close it yourself,” Jacob says.

Joseph sighs; always a light sleeper and often awake as early as Jacob. “No arguing before breakfast.” He shifts, moving like he’s planning to get up, but Rook hooks her leg around his, keeping him in place. 

“Don’t go,” she says. “Let’s just stay here all day.” Rook is so tired her eyes feel like sandpaper when she blinks and she doesn’t have much energy to spare. “You’re people will be fine for a day, you don’t have to go anywhere.”

“Rook,” Joseph runs his fingers through her hair, “are you alright.”

“Yeah,” she says. “No. I couldn’t sleep. I— I keep seeing— I’ve been having these nightmares where— I couldn’t sleep.”

“What kind of nightmares?” Joseph asks, and the bed shifts as Jacob sits up. 

Rook presses herself tighter to Joseph’s side. “Ones where Jacob and John are dead and you hate me because I— I—” she never saw that part of the dream, but she knew what had happened. Over and over she watched as two of the men she loves died and every time she knew she had killed them. “It’s always my fault.”

“We’re right here,” John says, digging his fingers into the fingerprint bruises on her hip that he’d put there. “We’re not going anywhere.”

It helps, a little, but for the first time since she found her place with the Seeds she feels untethered and close to breaking. Each nightmare is worse than the last. “Please, just for today, please don’t leave me.” In the back of her mind is a fear that if they leave her sight she’ll never see them again. It’s irrational and terrible and she knows that it’s brought on by too little sleep. 

But it’s still there.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad,” Jacob says, leaning back against the pillows. “Spend the day in bed, maybe get Joseph to make pancakes.”

Joseph sighs again. “It’s not spending the day in bed if I have to get up to cook for everyone.”

“We do need to eat,” John says.

Rook can’t tell if they’re just trying to make her feel better or if they’re actually arguing about breakfast, but either way it does help. “Does that mean you’ll stay? Just today, no responsibilities?”

John tugs at one of the blankets, pulling it over the both of them. “It’s the best idea I’ve heard in months.”

“We’ll still need to— I’ll make some calls,” Joseph says. “But you have to talk to us about these nightmares. If there’s a way that we can help…”

“Just being here helps.”

“ _Rook._ ”

“He meant long-term help, Rook,” Jacob says.

Rook groans. “I know, I know, but how do you stop my mind from creating these images? How do I stop seeing you— how do I stop it?”

“Don’t know,” Jacob says. “Do you plan to kill us?”

“ _No._ ” Even the thought of it hurts like and open wound. 

“And Joseph could never hate you,” John adds. 

Joseph tips her chin up so their eyes meet. “John is right about that. You were meant for us, our family, and I love you. All of us love you.”

She could hear that a thousand times and it will always my her heart speed up and her cheeks stain pink. “I love you,” she says, “I _chose_ you.” 

Jacob reaches out to take her hand. “We’ll figure this out.”

Rook’s nightmares haven’t been banished and she’s so tired her vision is starting to blur around the edges, but she’s more optimistic now than she had been. Maybe they won’t be able to fix the problem and maybe she’ll have more dreams of death and fire. At least she knows that in she’ll still have the three men she’s chosen to spend her life with. And maybe if they work hard to end her nightmares, they’ll find an end for their own. 

Maybe nights in the Seed home won’t be so restless anymore.


	9. Rook/Joseph, hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I do your hair?"

There are a lot of problems in Hope County, not least of which is _nearly everything,_ but for Rook the one thing that’s always a special kind of annoying is the lack of easily found foods. A granola bar would be amazing, or a little bag of pretzels. Two weeks earlier she had found some questionable, but still edible, cheese crackers that she’s been hoarding like a small, greedy dragon. The little packs are her most prized possession.

She’s digging around in her bag, coming to the sad realisation that she doesn’t have a single scrap of food with her, when the ground she’s walking on disappears from under her and she trips all the way down a decently sized hill and lands in a patch of bright, sparkling Bliss.

“Fuck,” Rook groans, pushing herself up and feeling a sharp, cold spike of pain shoot through her ankle. “Ow, fuck, fuck, okay, _fuck._ ” She isn’t sure where her bag landed, and she definitely can’t see it through all the Bliss. Which means no radio to call for help. 

And definitely no snacks. 

Rook drops back onto the dirt, resigned to living out the rest of her life in this exact spot. 

“Rook?” Faith asks, bending over her with a look of shimmering concern. ”Are you alright?”

“Begone, specter.” Rook waves her arm at Faith, hitting her on the leg. “How the— how did you get her?”

“I’ve been following you.”

Rook isn’t sure how to take that, and just as unsure if she wants an explanation. “Do you do that often?”

Faith shrugs. “Should I call Joseph?”

“No,” Rook says. “I live here now.”

“I’m going to call Joseph.”

Rook closes her eyes, waving off Faith, and when she opens them again Joseph is there, looking down at her with concern. Either she fell asleep or he’s learned how to teleport, and maybe it’s the Bliss in her head but that doesn’t seem entirely unreasonable. “Hey, you,” she says, reaching out for him. “I was out of food and then I fell.”

“Faith said as much,” Joseph says. “She was concerned about leaving you in the Bliss too long.”

“The flowers are my new friends and this is my home.” Rook spreads her arms wide to indicate the patch of Bliss and the dirt she’s laying on.

Joseph’s expression turns confused, then concerned, then slips into a soft fondness she’s growing used to. “Can you walk?”

“Nope, that’s why I’ve made this my home.”

“Of course,” Joseph murmurs, then scoops her up into his arms so quickly that her head spins with it. Or possibly that’s the Bliss. “I’ll have a doctor meet us at the compound.”

Rook presses her face to Joseph’s neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and the expensive body wash he used that she knows John buys in bulk. It’s comforting, _grounding_ in a way, cutting through some of the sugary-sweet Bliss. “My hero,” she says. “My— my _guy._ My hero guy.” They pass by Faith who looks like she’s desperately trying not to laugh. “Bye, Faith, thank you for saving my life! You’re my favorite Seed, but don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” Faith promises.

Joseph sighs so hard Rook can feel it. 

“Bye, Faith,” Rook calls again as she and Joseph approach a sedately painted blue car without even a hint of the Eden’s Gate logo on the side. “Ah, the stealth car.”

“It— yes,” Joseph says, “the stealth car.”

There’s a Peggie standing by the open back door doing his very best to pretend he’s not listening and doesn’t see the Father carrying the cult’s number one enemy in a bridal carry. The poor guy looks ready to faint which makes Rook feel a little bad. 

“Don’t worry,” she says, patting the Peggie on the shoulder before Joseph gets her into the back seat. “It’s okay, I won’t blow up this car. This is the _stealth car._ ” The Peggie doesn’t look any better and Rook just has to assume that’s the guy’s natural state. Pale, wide-eyed, and terrified. 

What a way to live.

Once she’s inside Rook stays sitting only long enough for Joseph to climb in beside her before she lays down with her head pillowed in his lap. “Can I do your hair? I could curl it, or maybe a french braid? Something fun to inspire the faithful.”

The Peggie makes a sad, strangled noise as he slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

“Later,” Joseph says, “I’ll let you do whatever you want with my hair.”

Rook nods, agreeing to his terms momentarily. “I was being heroic, you know.”

“Were you?”

“I was saving a baby.”

Joseph hums thoughtfully. 

“From a _bear._ ” Rook knocks against the back of the driver’s seat. “You hear that? Make sure you tell the story of how I saved a baby from a bear.” The Peggie makes that same sad, strangled noise which she takes as confirmation.

“That is heroic,” Joseph says.

Rook reaches for him, dragging him down into a kiss and using the opportunity to untie his hair. It’s silky soft, slipping through her fingers as she smiles against Joseph’s lips. “You said I could play with it,” she reminds him, deciding she’s going to make him keep is loose later when they’re somewhere more comfortable. “I like you like this.”

Joseph sits up, plucking the hair tie from her fingers. “I said you could play with it _later,_ ” he says, trying for a serious tone in spite of the way his mouth pulls up at the corners. 

“Fine,” Rook sighs, stretching out as much as she can in the cramped car, and closes her eyes. “Will you cook dinner for me so I don’t starve and die?”

“Of course.”

“You’re my favorite Seed,” Rook says, “but don’t tell anyone.”


End file.
